Fuzzy Yellow Lemon Depression Blanket
by Elephantian
Summary: Roger and Collins can't seem to understand the comforts a certain blanket brings to a certain young filmmaker. Of course, Mark doesn't seem to know either. [oneshot][for challenge 11]


**This is in response to Challenge #11 at Challenge Central. **

**Here's what had to happen- CHALLENGE 11: Has to have both Mark and Roger in it. _Preferably friendship_, but you can slash it up if you wish. Has to be about Roger walking over to the bathroom and hearing Mark vomiting. You can have it be for any reason you'd like. DOUBLE POINTS for creativity.**

**Now onto the story!**

Roger loved camp. He loved the freedom and the lack of responsibility. He loved being able to hang out with his camp friend, Mark Cohen, almost all the time and not having to talk to his parents for six whole weeks. But he really loved the joy. Everyone was happy at camp. At camp you could escape from the real world for a while.

It was three weeks into camp and the ninth graders had just gotten back from a ten-day trip around Wisconsin and Minnesota. All twenty of the traveling kids had enjoyed the trip thoroughly, but we're excited to be back at camp with plumbing, good food and mattresses. Roger and Mark, having been 'left-overs' from the other eight boys in their bunk, were placed in a room together, much to their delight.

It was evening and the camp-wide activity (Battle of the Sexes that night) was over. Boys had won thanks to Roger- who was the fastest runner at camp. Having drunken too much juice at snack (which was after the activity) Roger rushed to his cabin and made a beeline to the bathroom. However, he was surprised when he found the door was locked and heard someone vomiting.

It had to be Mark. Who else would it be? Everyone else at camp had their own rooms and Mark was the only other one who shared their cabin.

"Mark," Roger said hesitantly, "Are you okay?"

Roger listened as the toilet flushed and a paler-than-usual Mark emerged from the bathroom. "Y…yeah," he answered, "I'm fine. Just a little sick from the heat, that's all."

Roger watched suspiciously as his friend wandered towards the door and, before exiting into the area in front of their room, pulled a bright yellow, fleece blanket off of his bed and wrapped it around his thin body.

"No wonder you're so sick from the heat!" Roger nearly yelled, rushing to Mark and yanking the blanket off of him, "You're walking around in one hundred degree weather wrapped in a winter blanket! How stupid can you be?"

His eyes narrowing with fury, Mark yanked his blanket back with unknown strength. "Don't touch my blanket," he grumbled, rewrapping it around him.

"I'll touch it all I want!" Roger said, poking his friend, "Poke, poke, poke! Touch, touch, touch!"

Mark rolled his eyes. "You wouldn't understand why I have it, so just leave me alone."

With that, he disappeared into the darkness outside, slamming the door behind him.

After making a quick stop in the bathroom, Roger ran after his friend. Figuring his friend was probably well hidden and far away, Roger was surprised when he opened the cabin door and saw Mark sitting on the picnic table in front of their room, staring up at the stars.

"Well, I'd understand if you told me," Roger said gently, sitting down next to his friend.

However, Mark refused to look at Roger. He just shifted his gaze to the dirt ground.

"Mark, what's wrong?" Roger asked, "I've never seen you like this before? Where's that smile?"

Mark just glared at the ground, refusing to acknowledge his friend.

Roger was getting worried. His friend NEVER acted like this! So, somewhat hesitantly, Roger ran to go get one of their counselors- Collins. Collins was Mark's neighbor; he'd know what to do!

Roger spied Collins hanging out with a few of the other campers in the field in front of the dining tent.

"Collins!" Roger yelled, "I need your help! Something's wrong with Mark!"

Collins nodded and, after excusing himself from the group, ran with Roger to the picnic table.

As soon as he saw the boy wrapped in the blanket and sitting on the picnic table, his expression changed. "No," he said, walking over and snatching the blanket from Mark, "No, no, no. You said you left this at home! You're not using it here."

"But it helps," Mark said meekly.

"No it doesn't," Collins replied sternly, "It makes it worse."

"It _does_ help," Mark snapped, jumping up from the picnic table and attempting to get his blanket back.

"What's going on?" Roger asked quietly.

"This," Collins answered, "Is Mark's Fuzzy-Yellow-Lemon-Depression Blanket. He wraps himself up in it when he's depressed. He thinks it helps, I think it MAKES him depressed."

"What's wrong Mark?" Roger asked, turning to his friend.

"I don't know," Mark answered, plopping down on the picnic table, defeated and upset about losing his blanket.

"How can you be depressed and not know why?" Roger questioned.

"I just don't know!" Mark snapped, "It happens a lot."

"Damn right it does," Collins said, "Every day I see this boy sitting on the porch, sighing and staring at the ground all wrapped up in this blanket!"

"But we're at camp!" Roger said, going to his friend's side, "Camp is supposed to be a happy place!"

"And it is," Mark replied, "Well, it _was_. At least for the past two years anyway. I don't know why I'm like this, I just am."

"Mark," Roger said softly, "Does your blanket make you feel better?"

Mark nodded.

Roger turned to Collins. "Just let him have it," he said, "If it makes him feel better. We can talk to him later about it."

With a sigh of defeat, Collins handed the blanket over and Mark smiled half-heartedly as Roger draped it around his shoulders.

* * *

Many, many years later Roger was walking by the bathroom just hours after he and Mark had returned home from the hospital. Collins had gotten sick and had finally passed on not too long ago.

Roger became alert when he heard vomiting. "Mark," he said, "Are you okay?"

"Y…yeah," Mark answered, emerging from the bathroom, "I'm fine. I…I think I'm going to go take a nap. Wake me up at five. I have a job interview."

"Sounds good buddy," Roger replied, "Will do."

A few hours later, when Roger went to go wake up his roommate, the rocker saw his friend wrapped up in a familiar, yellow blanket, a smile on his face.


End file.
